Valery Yakovlevich Bryusov (1873-1924) received a good education, and, helped by wide and studious reading,
became the most informed poet of his generation. With A.L. Miropolsky he published 'Russian Symbolists', which became the laughing stock for the next generation. Though Balmont, Sologub and Hippias
gradually became acceptable to the literary press, Brysov remained an outsider till 1905. But, far from being the prankster and mountebank his youthful imitations of French poets caused him
to be seen as, Bryusov was one of the most solemn and deadly serious figures in the whole of Russian literature. Though every new book was initially received with bewilderment and ridicule,
by 1903 Bryusov had been recognized as the head of the Russian Symbolists, and Symbolism itself became a reputable movement. His Vesy (The Scales: 1904-9) was the most civilized and European-leaning
literary journal of its time. All this promotion came at a cost, however, and Bryusov's poetry slowly declined. He had always been more than just a poet, but that wonderful energy and creativeness
inevitably fell off and 'All My Melodies' of 1909 showed no advance on 'Stephanos' of 1906. {1-2}
'Stephanos' included magnificent variations on Greek fables, and was probably the best achievement of the classical Symbolists in Russia. Unfortunately, as in his prose, Brysov's visions of
sensuality and cruelty remain pageants of loud colour, and there is little genuine feeling or psychology in the depictions. By 1913, even Bryusov's novels
had declined in plot and creativity.
Поэту
Ты должен быть гордым, как знамя:
Ты должен быть острым, как меч;
Как Данту, подземное пламя
Должно тебе щёки обжечь.
Всего будь холодный свидетель,
На всё устремляя свой взор.
Да будет твоя добродетель —
Готовность войти на костёр.
Быть может, всё в жизни лишь средство
Для ярко-певучих стихов,
И ты с беспечального детства
Ищи сочетания слов.
В минуты любовных объятий
К бесстрастью себя приневоль,
И в час беспощадных распятий
Прославь исступлённую боль.
В снах утра и в бездне вечерней
Лови, что шепнёт тебе Рок,
И помни: от века из терний
Поэта заветный венок.
1909
The TTS Audio Recording is:
The poem is written in amphibrachic trimeters rhymed AbAb:
Ты до́лжен быть го́рдым, как зна́мя: u – u u – u u – u 3A
Ты до́лжен быть о́стрым, как меч; u – u u – u u - 3b
Как Данту, подзе́мное пла́мя u – u u – u u – u 3A
Должно́ тебе́ щёки обже́чь. u – u u – u u - 3b
Ruverses have one rendering, by Evgeny Bonner. I give his first two stanzas:
You have to be high as a banner,
You have to be sharp as a sword;
Your face, like the Dante's one, forever
By flames of the Hell must be burnt.
A cold observer of actions —
See all — in the white and the black.
And let be your highest perfection —
Intention to stride to a stake.
How are we to translate the amphibrachic trimeter? Evgeny Bonner, very much to his credit, does reproduce the metre, and makes an honest stab at the feminine rhyme. Successfully?
On this simple question hangs a good deal of translation practice.
One school of translation tries to bring a successful poem in a foreign language across as a successful poem in the new language, here English, which means adopting the styles, graces and expectations
of English poems, an approach that is often called 'familiarizing'. Another school, and one more popular today, 'defamiliarizes' the poem, i.e. maintains in the
translation the distinctive features of the foreign language text, here Russian. Readers can make up their own minds, but I wouldn't myself think that Bonner's translation quite
comes off. The rhymes are approximate, the metre a little gallumping, and the words don't really make sense.
Both schools have their proponents, but because the aesthetic shape is a key component of translations on this site, I'm going to adopt the 'familiarizing' approach and replace
the amphibrachic trimeter, unusual in English, with the common iambic tetrameter. In general, it seems wiser, rather than rigidly adopt any one approach, to simply try and
and see what works best. Here, as a sop to the other approach, and maintain some fidelity to the Russian, I do retain the feminine rhyme. Occasionally, I have also put a little 'bounce' into the lines
by departing from an exact iambic.
To the Poet
Proud as any banner,
make words sharp as the sword,
adopt the Dante manner:
cheeks burn as truths afford.
Impartial as a witness,
fix eyes on each the same.
Fashion virtue to human fitness,
thrust hand into the flame.
Bring all to tuneful power:
so honest poems are heard.
From carefree childhood hour
interlink in every word.
In moments of love’s hurt avowal
ensure that bravery remain,
that crucifixions be espousal
of ecstasies and pain.
In morning dream, abyss of evening ―
both the stone’s cold whisper share ―
recall thorns are ever weaving
blessed wreaths that poets wear.
Is this successful? I wouldn't have thought so, though whether the failure lies in the translation, or the strident commonplaces of
the original, is hard to say. Russian Symbolist poetry often simply 'doesn't work'. Here the answer is probably to tone down the rhyme and rhetoric, change the amphibrachic trimeter
to a tetrameter, and aim for something more quietly
musical. Perhaps like this:
You should be proud as is the banner,
and sharp your words as any sword,
and by deep flames, the Dante manner,
ensure your cheeks are burnt and scored.
Be then impartial as a witness,
that all perspectives seem the same.
Make virtue part of human fitness,
and thrust your hand into the flame.
Make everything in life the power
to have melodious poems heard.
And from the carefree childhood hour
make combinations for each word.
In moments of your love’s avowal
ensure that bravery remains,
that crucifixions be espousal
of fearsome ecstasies and pains.
In morning dreams, abyss of evening,
catch what stone’s cold whisper shares;
remember thorns are ever weaving
the honoured bays the poet wears.
1. Mirsky, D.S, Contemporary Russian Literature (Alfred A Knopf, 1926) 186-91.
2. Bristol, E., A History of Russian Poetry (1991, O.U.P.) 175-8.
Russian poem translations on this site: listing.
